


A Hope Lost

by fried_flamingo



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Not Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Prequel, Rey Skywalker, Sequel, Skywalker Family Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-02-11 22:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12945123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fried_flamingo/pseuds/fried_flamingo
Summary: The years after the defeat of the Empire are a turbulent time for the Solos and Skywalkers.  The Emperor may be dead, and Anakin Skywalker returned to the Light in his final moments, but Vader's legacy is a shadow that hangs over them all still.  A boy is born who may bring hope again to the Galaxy, if only he can resist the Dark Side."The boy was born on the day the Destroyers began to fall.  Though the Force often manifested as visions of what was to come, the weary descent of these shattered giants could be attributed only to decaying orbits and the pull of gravity; their fall held no portent.  Later though, the man who once was Jedi would look at those half-buried hulls and wonder what had been foretold that day, and how he could have misread it so badly."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In anticipation of Episode VIII, I'll be posting this story over the next few days. This is my take on what happened between Return of the Jedi and The Force Awakens, and I'm marking it canon compliant until the 14th of December arrives to tear all my theories down.
> 
> Most is based on EU canon, but some is of my own creation - any errors in mythology are all mine.
> 
> I've been a Star Wars fan since I was four, but strangely this is my first fic in the universe. I hope you enjoy and comments are most appreciated.
> 
> This one is dedicated to our Princess and General, Carrie <3

The boy was born on the day the Destroyers began to fall. Though the Force often manifested as visions of what was to come, the weary descent of these shattered giants could be attributed only to decaying orbits and the pull of gravity; their fall held no portent. Later though, the man who once was Jedi would look at those half-buried hulls and wonder what had been foretold that day, and how he could have misread it so badly.

The day of the birth, he sat in one of the private rooms of the Alderaanian Royal Residence on Coruscant, waiting for news from the chambers above. In truth, he’d need no announcement to know the child had arrived in the world; the Force roiled in this one, like a storm unspent. There would be much work to control that power and, not for the first time, the Jedi wished for the counsel of those wiser than he.

“You’re worried.” Emi Shendo didn’t look up from where she worked behind her desk, her stylus tapping with small, efficient strikes on the screen in front of her – the office of Royal Aide didn’t stop even for the birth of the heir apparent it seemed. “There really is no need. Your sister is quite healthy and her pregnancy has been without incident. Quite remarkably so in fact.”

From the moment he’d arrived on Coruscant for the birth of Han and Leia’s son, Luke Skywalker had been mindful to maintain a neutral countenance and not betray the fears that plagued him. Leia’s aide was not strong with the Force, but evidently the young woman possessed a keen intuition all the same, its roots far more commonplace. She was Corellian, like Han, but if ever there was proof that a shared homeworld did not mean a shared character, it was those two. Han was all laconic savvy and braggadocio, where Shendo seemed to be straight talk and logic. He’d met her a total of four times in the year since the Empire had fallen and it troubled him that she had read him so easily.

“I’m not worried,” he replied. “My sister is giving birth. An heir to the House of Organa. It’s a momentous occasion.”

Shendo stopped writing and raised her head to look at him fully. Her silence discomfited Luke and he felt he was being scrutinized. For a moment, he was tempted to use a mind trick to make her turn away, but knew that was irrational and cheap. He was only glad that she would never truly know the darkness that clouded his family’s past. Eventually, she turned back to her work without passing comment.

Luke took a breath. He was off kilter today; the occasion was indeed momentous, but not for the reasons he’d stated. There was, after all, another lineage to be considered here – this one an inheritance, not of title, but of blood. Too often, in the past few months, he’d woken from night terrors filled with visions of the black mask, its metallic features twisted and charred, and he regretted bringing the cursed thing with him from Endor. It was a gesture that seemed worthy in the moment, but afterwards, the helmet was often too stark a reminder of that final battle. The monster he’d fought was gone, however, and in the end his father, Anakin, had returned from the Dark Side.  


This boy though… He was a symbol of a future created from light. He was a new hope.

Shendo was writing in her files again, the blip-blip of her penstrokes loud in the high-ceilinged chamber. Luke was glad that her intuition was just that; without the Force, she would never know how deep his fear ran.

“Your nephew is lucky to have parents who’ll provide such a stable and loving home. I understand you were not so fortunate.”

Luke bridled. “I had a loving home. My aunt and uncle sacrificed a lot for me.” 

_They sacrificed everything. Or do you already know that?_

Her pen stopped, but she didn’t look at him. “I apologize. That was not my meaning. What I wanted to say was…” Though he hadn’t meant to reach out with the Force, for the first time since their meeting today, Luke felt her mind touch his, glancing and startling; she was not so composed as he’d first believed. “What I should have said was, he’ll be fortunate to have a Jedi Knight in his family.”

Luke stood and walked to the window. Coruscant’s buildings towered around them, and he could feel the thrum of life from every person in them, could feel their pulse resonate in time with his own heart beat. In the distance, towered the ruins of the Jedi Temple. He wondered how long it would take for its ancient and once-revered archives to turn to dust.

_Delusions of grandeur, Luke, old buddy?_

“I was never a Jedi Knight,” he murmured.

He heard Shendo take a breath, but if she spoke he didn’t know it, because a sudden swell of the Force filled his head, almost driving him to his knees, followed soon after by a baby’s cries. The boy had arrived. 

***

Surprisingly, it was Han who suggested their son’s name. Up until the day he was born, he and Leia had been unable to settle on one that fit, and Leia often thought that her husband made suggestions for the sole purpose of irritating her. ‘Lando’ was one that he mentioned regularly.

But there was much in a name, and though Leia would have liked to honor the parents who raised her, she knew her son was no ‘Bail’. Even early in her pregnancy, the Force that flowed through this tiny being inside her had almost been overwhelming; the Skywalker bloodline was a powerful one. But to name him Anakin… it was a dangerous fate to tempt.

“How about Ben?” whispered Han, as he cradled his son for the first time, eyes fixed in awe on that small, red face.

“Really?” Leia swallowed against the hoarseness of her voice, her eyes wanting to slide closed, but her heart so full she didn’t want to miss a second of her child’s first day in the world.

“Yeah.” Han shrugged as if it was nothing, though his eyes told her the truth. “The old man was important to you and Luke. And I liked him. I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to name him Ben.”

Leia smiled and then, alarmingly, began to cry.

“Aw now, c’mon, I didn’t mean for you to get upset. Alright, we can call him whatever you want.”

“I’m not upset. I’ve just had kind of a big day. And I’d like to call him Ben. Now come over here.”

Han came to sit on her bed, nestling Ben between them. For a while, they just watched him squirm and fuss. It was easy to forget in that moment who this baby was and where he had come from.

“He’s important,” said Leia, struck all at once by a sense of destiny and how the Force shaped the path of them all.

“He’s just a baby, Leia,” said Han. “He’s our baby.”

“Yes,” she said, the idea still almost too incredible to grasp. “Our baby.” 

Han shifted on the bed to face her. Gently, he brushed her hair from her sticky forehead. “You need something? You need some ice?”

The idea was bliss to her parched throat. “You know we have staff who can fetch that,” she said, though this was another old argument between them.

“Han Solo doesn’t do ‘staff,’” he said, predictably, and eased off the bed. “I won’t be long.”

Before he’d even opened the bedroom door, Leia knew who was standing on the other side. “Luke.” She held out her hand and beckoned him to come see his nephew. Han clapped him on the shoulder with a barely concealed grin of pride and left.

It was the first she’d seen her brother in months and, as he approached her bedside, she could see the change in him. He no longer wore the Jedi robes and there was one other, more significant difference that troubled her. This was neither the time nor place, however, so she turned Ben towards him and said, “This is your nephew. His name is Ben.”

Luke took her outstretched hand, his right reaching out to Ben, before freezing and clenching it into a fist midway. He glanced down at the black glove.

In her arms, Ben had stilled, his sightless eyes turned towards his uncle in a way that was unnerving in a child not yet two hours old. “It’s okay, Luke,” she said. “You won’t break him.”

“Won’t I?” he answered, and there was more to the question than Leia cared to think on right then.

“He’s strong,” she said.

“I know. I could hear him cry from downstairs.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Leia, I –”

“We can’t pretend not to know who he is, Luke. Who we are.”

“Who we are is dangerous.”

“No, you’re wrong. It’s the Dark Side that’s dangerous. But Ben has you and me to guide him in the ways of the Light. He’ll never be like –” 

“Leia.” It was a warning to stop, but she ignored it.

“No, Luke. We can’t be afraid of saying his name. We both know where fear can lead. He was our father once, and his name was –”

“Leia!” 

“His name was Darth Vader.”

“No!”

Ben began to cry, a hearty wail that came from deep in his lungs, and she shushed him back to a semi-quiet.

Luke wiped a gloved hand across his forehead. “I’m sorry. This isn’t why I came here. I came here for you.”

“I know,” said Leia, “you were worried.”

He scowled. “Your aide talks too much.”

What Emi had to do with this, Leia couldn’t quite figure. “What?”

“Never mind,” said Luke. After a moment, he added, “The Star Destroyers have started to fall.”

Leia wasn’t sure what the relevance was. “We knew that would happen.”

“I know. But the first one crashed down on Tatooine this morning. Some sandpeople were killed. More will fall. It felt… it felt important, that’s all.”

It was important, though Leia couldn’t put her finger on why. “That’s not why you came,” she said.

“No, I came because I was worried. And so were you.”

Leia’s gaze shifted away. No-one but Luke would ever have guessed that; no-one but Luke would ever share the burden of knowledge that their own mother had died giving them life. Not even Luke, however, could share the particular fear she had faced bringing her own child into the world. “It’s not the same, Luke. It will never be the same. He’s safe with us.”

At last, Luke leaned forward, his left hand brushing down Ben’s ruddy cheek. “I know he is, Leia. And I promise you, the Dark Side will never find him.”

And if Leia hadn’t looked in her brother’s eyes just then, if she hadn’t noticed how he no longer carried his lightsaber, she might even have believed that was a promise he could keep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ben tried to talk to his father that day. Not with words, not the way they normally did it. He’d tried to talk to him the way he sometimes talked to Mother, like when you just thought the words and Mother knew. But Father hadn’t even looked his way and Ben’s words had bounced back to him like a rubber ball on a marble floor. Deep down, Ben knew they’d never be able to speak to each other like that, because Ben felt where those words came from. They weren’t made of sounds and letters, like normal words - they were made of feelings. They were made of the Force, and Father didn’t have that at all."

Ben was three when he found he could hear what people were saying, even when their mouths didn’t move. At first he thought it was funny. When Senator Chase told mother lies in the Council Chambers, it made Ben laugh to tell everyone in the room the truth, and it was more interesting than playing with his toys in the corner. But no one else laughed and mother told him later that he should only say such things to her when it was just the two of them. Ben said yes, of course he’d do that, but secretly he didn’t understand; his mother had taught him that telling lies was wrong, so he didn’t see how it could also be wrong to point out when other people were lying. 

His father hadn’t said he’d been wrong. He’d stood behind his mother thinking that his grin was well hidden behind his hand. But Ben knew he was smiling. It would have made him smile too, if only his father had said what he’d been thinking; that Ben had been right to point out those sancti… sanc-ti-mon-is… Ben didn’t know the word his father was thinking. He only knew he agreed with him – but said nothing. It was just one of those times when he tried and failed to understand whose side his father was on. 

He’d tried to talk to him that day. Not with words, not the way they normally did it. He’d tried to talk to him the way he sometimes talked to Mother, like when you just thought the words and Mother knew. But Father hadn’t even looked his way and Ben’s words had bounced back to him like a rubber ball on a marble floor. Deep down, Ben knew they’d never be able to speak to each other like that, because Ben felt where those words came from. They weren’t made of sounds and letters, like normal words - they were made of feelings. They were made of the Force, and Father didn’t have that at all. Only Mother had it. And, of course, Uncle Luke.

But even Uncle Luke was hard to understand. Ben remembered the time his uncle had blindfolded him and told him to point to where he’d put his favorite toy. Ben had guessed right every single time, and Uncle Luke had smiled and rubbed Ben’s head, but the feeling his uncle had had inside wasn’t a happy one at all. 

And then there was that other thought that all of them had: Mother, Father and Uncle Luke. The Scary Thought. The one shaped like a man made of blackness and smoke. The Scary Thought was the hardest of them all to see, because it shifted and swam away when he tried to grab hold of it, like the fish in the palace fountains. The man made of blackness who lived inside that thought frightened Ben more than anything ever had, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to know who he was. 

Uncle Luke and Mother were good at hiding the shadow man from him, but once, he’d found Father staring out the window of their chambers. Father hadn’t known Ben was there and he’d been thinking The Scary Thought. And the shadow man was there, right there, unhidden, at the front of Father’s mind, huge and dark and terrifying, and the sound he’d made had been the heaving breath of a monster.

Ben had screamed then and his father had turned and run to him, gathering him in his arms and telling him that it was alright. “Who is he, Father?” he’d choked out between sobs.  
“Who is the man? Who is Vader?”

The expression on his father’s face, Ben would only see twice in his life. He decided then that trying to see people’s thoughts wasn’t always a good idea. 

***

Coruscant looked old the day Luke came back. It was a world already worn that first time he’d visited almost six years before, it’s shine worn down under the Empire’s thuggish fist. Now though, the Galactic City showed signs of neglect. 

“Rebuilding a Republic is expensive, Luke,” said Leia, as they shared a meal in the Residence. “The credits need to come from somewhere.”

He wasn’t judging - there was a time when anything grander than a hole dug out of some sand seemed ostentatious – but he knew this wasn’t the future his sister had envisioned when she’d sent the plea for Ben Kenobi’s help thirteen years before. It wasn’t the future he’d envisioned back then either; the ways of the Force had little to do with the life of a moisture farmer. But then if things had gone as they’d planned, neither of them would even know that the other existed. The Force determined one’s fate and this was the path they were supposed to travel.

“I thought a princess would have influence in the Senate.” He was teasing, but he knew how hard Leia was working to piece the Republic back together. In-fighting was still common and, if anything, politics had become even more complex without a shared foe to focus on.

“A princess of a planet that no longer exists,” she said, with a wry smile. “It’s not a title that holds much sway anymore. Threepio’s out there with Mon Mothma working on drumming up support, but it’s a slow process, uniting thousands of disparate planets. Sometimes it all seems so small and petty compared to what we were doing with the Rebellion.”

News like this fed a worm of worry that lived constantly within Luke, and he could sense that Leia felt it too. They both knew too much of history not to understand where pettiness and internal strife could lead.

There was a sharp rap at the door. “Your highness, there’s –” Emi Shendo stopped on the threshold, her eyes fixed on Luke. Her brows furrowed. “Forgive me, Highness, I wasn’t made aware… I mean…”

“That’s alright, Emi,” said Leia. “Luke’s X-wing is on the roof. I met him there and saw him down here myself. You weren’t to know.”

Leia had wanted as little ceremony as possible and Luke had been happy to forego the formalities of visiting his sister. So he couldn’t quite fathom why his face heated at Shendo’s glare, why his body tingled right down to his finger tips at her presence. He felt like he should apologize, though wasn’t sure why.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, Highness,” she said at last, “but there’s an ambassador from Jakku in the stateroom. He says his name is San Tekka. I can deal with him, but thought you should be aware.”

Leia leaned back in her chair. “Jakku? I didn’t even know that patch of bantha crud had an embassy.”

“Hey,” said Luke, “I come from a patch of bantha crud.”

“Yeah, and you hated it.” Luke shrugged, conceding the point and Leia rose. “I’m sorry, I should probably…”

Luke waved her away. He’d experienced the downside of having a stateswoman as a sister many times before. It was only after she’d left the room that he realized Shendo was still there. “You don’t need to apologize again,” he said.

“I wasn’t going to.” The deference she’d shown Leia was gone and it was back to that forthrightness he’d come to expect from her.

“Then what…?”

She frowned and closed her eyes. “This is hard to say. Sometimes I just….”

Luke waited. He’d experienced prurient interest before, from women, from men – from anyone who’d somehow found out who he was and wanted a taste of that glory or infamy or whatever they wanted to call it. But he’d known Shendo for six years now and she was nothing like that. There were times in his travels when he’d found himself wishing for her company, though he couldn’t fathom why. He’d never met anyone who could, in equal parts, sooth him and cast stones that sent ripples across his equilibrium. “You just…?”  


Shendo visibly steeled herself. “Sometimes I just find that I want to talk to you.”

Luke faltered. That was unexpected. He rose from his seat. “Emi…”

“Don’t tell us we missed lunch!” Han’s voice was loud in the small room. Both Luke and Shendo started at his entrance and Han directed a barely concealed grin at Luke.

“Uncle Luke!” Ben wriggled down from Han’s arms and ran toward Luke. “Father and I went on a hike and I saw three different colors of butterflies and I heard in my head how they were different colors but father doesn’t know how I could hear it. I’m hungry. Can I have some of your lunch? Hey, how come your head and your stomach is all mixed up? And did you know I’m going to be five next cycle?”

Luke laughed as the tiny bundle of energy barreled into his arms, talking all the while. “Yes, I know you’ll be five, Ben, and you can have as much of my lunch as you want,” he said, answering the only questions he could. He left his nephew devouring the cheese and fruit on his plate, while he went to embrace Han. 

“How come your head’s all mixed up, Uncle Luke?” murmured Han in his ear. 

“How come your son can hear the colors of butterflies?” retorted Luke, though he knew it was small-minded.

Han pushed away. “You tell me, Jedi,” he said, and Luke could feel the fear he fought to quell. He hadn’t meant to remind his brother-in-law of the Force that guided his son every day. It wasn’t fair, given his own stance on the matter. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m glad you got back before I left.” 

After a beat, Han grinned. “I’m glad too, buddy.”

“Shall I take Master Ben down to his nursemaid, General Solo?” Shendo was once again all practiced duty.

“You’ll never get round to calling me Han, will you, Emi?”

“It’s been six years, General,” she replied. “I would imagine not.” 

When she and Ben had gone, Han poured himself a glass of wine. He held the bottle out to Luke who shook his head. “If you’ve rejected the ways of the Jedi,” said Han, sitting down, “how come you still obey the rules? Drinking is one of the many things that make being one of us lesser mortals a bit more fun.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but bit back a reply. This was an old conversation, one they’d had many times since the fall of the Empire; he knew Han only brought it up to get a rise out of him. The truth was he hadn’t rejected the ways of the Jedi – all that Master Yoda had taught him still guided him each day. He just didn’t call himself a Jedi any more. He hadn’t earned that right. “I’ve a feeling I’ll need a clear head for whatever Leia wants to talk to me about,” he said instead.

Han’s expression clouded. “Oh. That.”

“You know what she wants?”

Han looked toward the door through which Emi and Ben had left. “Yeah, I know.”

“But you’re not happy about it.”

“Guess you don’t need any mystical abilities to know that, huh?”

“It’s Ben, isn’t it? She wants me to train him.” The boy had grown so much stronger since Luke had last seen him. If Han could sense even a fraction of the potential power his son contained, he’d be more alarmed than he was now. Luke knew now what question Leia was going to ask and didn’t know how she’d react when he said no.

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about saying no. I’m not going to let it happen. Ben won’t be training as a Jedi.” Though Han smiled when he said them, his word’s still had a hard edge of determination.

“Leia isn’t exactly someone who backs down easily, Han.”

“She knows why I don’t want this.”

“And why is that?”

“You need to ask?”

Luke turned his attention to the table top and said on a sigh, “There are some things we can’t hide from, Han.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Han retorted, and then leaned forward, arms on his knees, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I just wish sometimes that he was a normal kid.”

“He is normal.”

With a barked laugh, Han said, “Is he? Do normal kids hear the colors of butterflies, Luke?” Luke shifted his gaze and, with an uncharacteristic openness, Han continued, “I love that kid with everything I have. _Everything_ I have. But sometimes I get so scared thinking of what he is, of what he can do.” He paused, his gaze fixing on some distant point out the window. “I get scared thinking of who might come for him.”

That was a fear Luke hadn’t considered… that the threat to Ben would come from an outside source. “No one will come for him, Han. The Emperor’s dead. Vader is dead.” He was getting better at saying that name without balking. “If we’re careful, Ben need never know who his grandfather was.”

Han looked him in the eye. “Is it as simple as that?”

There was no answer Luke could give his friend without lying to him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy had turned inward, at times sullen and silent, at others filled with an unbridled fury, lashing out with little cause. Han passed it off as the tantrums of an eight-year-old, but, just once, he’d caught Luke’s eye as his son had huddled in his mother’s arms sobbing angrily and unable to give the reason why. There was a question in that look, and an accusation.

It was on the planet Lef that the Dark Side made itself known once more. Luke felt it as a pressure in his head, a sting of ice on his skin, a burn in his gut. The source, though, was impossible to pinpoint, and so he was left helpless against whatever threat may be looming just beyond the horizon. 

They were on the small agricultural planet to hear a petition from an assembly of farmers concerned about their place in the New Republic. Planetary politics and the grumblings of small-minded statesmen, however, had stolen the floor, and Luke had left that battle to Leia, Threepio and the stranger who’d accompanied them from Jakku, Lor San Tekka. 

There was a story to be told with that man, but for now Luke could only focus on searching for that elusive seed of darkness that floated on the edge of his consciousness. Emi Shendo, with the same startling insight that often blindsided him, had noted the change in him and, with a hand on his arm as they left the council chambers for the day, asked what was wrong.

“Nothing,” he said, all too aware of her touch, wanting to pull away from it while never wanting it to end. “It’s… it’s hard to explain.”

“It’s this place, isn’t it,” she said. “This planet. Something’s wrong.” She glanced around at the men and women who filed past them, farmers easily distinguishable from the politicians, both distrustful of the other, yet united in their vague misgivings about the Republic. The Dark Side was proficient at weaving this brutish kind of fear. “I can see it in their faces. The meetings I’ve attended with Her Highness. You can hear it in the words they don’t say. Something ugly is coming.”

Luke swallowed; her words, so shrewd and so grounded, unlocked some part of him that he’d fought hard to keep chained. “I don’t know how to stop it, Em,” he whispered.

Her hand slid further round his arm, her grip tightening. In that moment, he thought it might be the only thing keeping him upright. “Perhaps you can’t,” she said, her eyes locking with his. Though Emi knew nothing of the Force, in that moment Luke thought that there was no other who could truly understand his struggle, not even Leia.

If his sister was aware of the Dark Side’s manifestation, she gave no sign. A small planet like Lef had little time for the ways of the Force, and so Princess Leia Organa-Solo could betray nothing of the heaviness that hung on every breath of air. But Luke knew that she must feel it.

Ben though… the boy had turned inward, at times sullen and silent, at others filled with an unbridled fury, lashing out with little cause. Han passed it off as the tantrums of an eight-year-old, but, just once, he’d caught Luke’s eye as his son had huddled in his mother’s arms sobbing angrily and unable to give the reason why. There was a question in that look, and an accusation.

“I should take him home,” Han had said. “He’s too young to be travelling with us like this.”

That alarmed Luke even more; the Dark Side was an insidious thing, able to do more harm when ignored and unchecked. There was no other choice left to him - that much was clear now. Ben needed to be trained in the ways of the Jedi. Yet still Luke hesitated. Until that night. 

He’d known there was a presence in the chambers he’d been given before he’d even opened the door, and he’d known too who it was. The blue glow that shone through the window from the balcony was enough to lift some of the weight he’d been carrying all these years.

“Obi-wan.” It had been many years since the old Jedi had appeared to him and Luke had felt his absence keenly. By his side, Artoo chirped and bleeped his excitement, and Luke hushed him with a hand to his domed top, before walking to the balcony to join his former master.

“Luke, my boy,” said Obi-wan, “you look like one with many troubles.”

There was so much to tell him, so much to ask him. In the end, it all boiled down to one simple admission. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Obi-wan smiled and sat on the stone bench that ran around the balustrade. He gestured for Luke to sit with him. “You underestimate your judgment, young Padawan.”

“I’m not Padawan anymore, Ben. I wish I was. I would do things so differently. I would listen to you and Master Yoda. I would finish my apprenticeship.”

“And you think that would change things for the better?”

“I could do it properly this time. I was too young and headstrong and I made a mess of so many things.”

“The galaxy is free from the yoke of Palpatine, Luke. I would call that a victory, not a mess.”

Luke leaned back on the cold stone and studied his hands. “Yet the Republic is still in pieces and there are no Jedi to help rebuild it.”

“Ah, so it’s regrets then. Yes, I know of those. And I know all about failure – true failure. I know what it is to hide away.”

Luke bridled. “I’m not hiding.”

“There are more places to hide than a cave on Tatooine.” Obi-wan raised his hand and tapped two fingers to Luke’s temple. Luke didn’t so much feel the touch itself as the energy that emanated from it. “There are many caverns inside here.”

“The past is in here,” said Luke, pressing his fingertips to the same spot. “I never want to go back there.”

“To ignore it is to tempt repetition, Luke.”

With a shake of his head, Luke squeezed his eyes shut. “No, I can’t face that again. I can’t let him see. We can’t let him know.” He hadn’t mentioned Ben’s name, but of course Obi-wan knew.

“The boy is strong, Luke. Stronger than any I’ve seen in many years. Do you honestly think he will never find out about Vader?”

It was impossible to counter Obi-wan’s words – this was a truth too enormous to hide forever – but for Luke the memory was too fresh of the worst moment of his life, clinging to a flimsy jut of metal, miles above Bespin, his hand gone, and hearing the revelation that would forever change his life and who he’d believed himself to be. How could he burden a child with that same knowledge? “I don’t want him to live under that shadow,” he said quietly.

“Luke,” said Obi-wan, in a way that forced him to meet his old master’s eyes, “there is a shadow coming that is greater than Vader. You have felt it. So has Ben. You must help him face it. You must prepare yourself.”

Luke pushed himself from the bench and stood with his back to Obi Wan, staring out at the landscape turned red in the light of Lef’s solitary moon. “I am prepared.”

“Are you? Because the absence of a lightsaber at your belt is not lost on me.”

“That’s the weapon of a Jedi. I don’t have a right to call myself that.”

He heard Ben sigh. “A Jedi’s training takes many forms, young Skywalker. Whatever blame you might assume, do not forget that. You are as much a Jedi as any I saw complete their Academy training. More so, in ways. To become a Jedi Master, all you need do is take on a Padawan. And young Solo is in great need of such teaching. He is important, Luke. The Force must always have balance and he may be the one who could bring it.”

The thought of Ben being the balance against whatever may rise from the Dark Side galled Luke. He turned slightly, watching the old man from the corner of his eye. “I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can teach him.”

“You are the last Jedi, Luke. You must try. For his sake. For all our sakes.”

Luke finally faced his friend, knowing he must accept the task that lay ahead of him. “Do or do not,” he said, with a pained smile, “there is no try.”

Obi-wan nodded in satisfaction, and Luke sensed that he was about to leave. But there was one other question that had troubled him these past years and now colored the choice he’d just made. “Obi-wan… a Jedi’s burden.” He swallowed not knowing how to shape the words. “It can never be shared.” He’d phrased it as a statement of truth, but also a question edged with hope.

Though Luke had endeavored not to reveal the purpose behind his words, Obi-wan smiled as though he could see his former student’s heart more clearly than Luke himself. “To be a Jedi is to truly know the value of friendship, of compassion, and of loyalty, Luke. Your father possessed those traits once, but he did not fully understand them in others. His love of Padme was tainted by bitterness and obsession. If you find someone that you can connect to in a selfless way, then you are on the path of the Light, and the Dark Side will not take hold of you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia trusted Luke – of course she trusted Luke. Despite the self-doubt that he tried so hard to hide, he was a fine Jedi, a noble and kind man, a worthy master. And yet hadn’t Obi-wan been all of those things?
> 
> But when she looked at her son’s face, all she saw was the babe she had birthed and nursed, the child she loved and who loved her back. Her son, too, would be a fine Jedi.

Leia sent her son away on the same day that Lef seceded from the Republic. Though she’d tried to convince Han that this was the right decision and that keeping him with them would only be for selfish reasons, these last few moments of goodbye were stones dragging her beneath a dark and bottomless lake. She felt the loss like the first step on a road that would change their lives forever. The secession of an entire planet paled in comparison.

Only later would she realize how the two had been intrinsically linked.

“And you’ll listen to your Uncle Luke,” she said, tightening the buckle that fastened Ben’s coat, until he squirmed and pulled away.

“Yes, mother,” said Ben, tugging the buckle loose again. “I’ve said so all the times you told me before.”

They were gathered on the landing platform outside the Coruscant residence. Beyond them stood the Millennium Falcon, prepped and ready for take-off, with Chewie in the pilot’s seat. Han was somewhere in the chambers above, having made it clear that he would have no part in this; his son was not meant to be a Jedi and should be staying at home with them. 

Leia knew, though, that deep down Han understood Ben’s power could not go unchecked. Some part of her wished she could have given them a son free of the shackles of the past, without the Force’s mark. But she might as well have wished that their son had been born with Han’s sand colored hair, instead of inheriting his dark locks from her. 

“Will Father come and say goodbye?” asked Ben, though there was doubt in the eyes he raised to the tower behind them.

“He’ll visit you soon,” said Leia, avoiding the question and angry that she had to.

“Yes, mother,” said Ben, but this time his tone was flat, his gaze falling to his feet. Ben had never questioned why he had to go and join Luke in the Jedi Academy. If anything, her boy seemed to relish the idea, which made Leia realize just how aware he was of his abilities; he knew that Coruscant held nothing for him. He wanted to learn, to advance, to succeed. She ignored that whisper which often spoke to her, telling her there was a fine line between succeeding and conquering.

She trusted Luke – of course she trusted Luke. Despite the self-doubt that he tried so hard to hide, he was a fine Jedi, a noble and kind man, a worthy master. And yet hadn’t Obi-wan been all of those things?

But when she looked at her son’s face, all she saw was the babe she had birthed and nursed, the child she loved and who loved her back. Her son, too, would be a fine Jedi.

“Your Highness.” The deep voice of Lor San Tekka broke into her thoughts. The man had become a trusted advisor, though she’d long been aware that his original claim of hailing from Jakku was a fabrication. The old man hadn’t admitted as much, but Mon Mothma had filled in the gaps of the role Tekka had played in the fledgling Rebellion, during the early days of Palpatine’s reign, and his position as Acolyte of the Church of the Force. As inscrutable as he was, it was a worthy history and Leia trusted him implicitly, which was why she had chosen him to accompany Ben to where Luke waited on Yavin 4. She turned to him now. “It is time,” he said.

Leia nodded and hugged Ben once more, relishing how he didn’t squirm this time, but hugged her back, his skinny arms tight around her neck. “Be good,” she whispered against the tears that threatened. “Listen to Uncle Luke. May the Force be with you, Ben. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mother. May the Force be with you.”

And then he was gone, up the ramp of the Falcon, and minutes later, airborne.

In that moment, Leia would have given a hundred planets to have him back.

***

Han watched the Falcon leave. Not since Endor had it flown without him, and now it was carrying his son away.

Bull-headed and arrogant as always, he knew he’d made a huge mistake in refusing to say goodbye. Leia had pleaded with him, trying to convince him that this was the right thing to do, that it was dangerous not to allow Ben his training. The truth was he hadn’t needed convincing; he knew that Ben needed the guidance of Luke, of course he knew. But he also knew how Luke’s own relationship with the Force was far from straightforward. There had been an occasion, in the days just after the Empire’s fall, when Luke had opened up to him in a rare moment of candidness and told him of how the Dark Side had drawn him, of how easy it would have been to succumb to that pull and accept Vader’s will. Han just wanted his boy to live a life free of that legacy.

That, however, was as futile as trying to catch the wind in a jar. Despite his name, his boy was Skywalker through to the marrow. Han hadn’t been willing to admit it until he’d watched Leia embrace their son down on the platform and only now did he realize that no one but Ben would suffer for his refusal to see him off. But by the time he’d admitted to himself how stupid he’d been, his son was already walking up the ramp.

There was a moment though, sharp and bright, when he was sure Ben was looking right at him, accusation in his child’s eyes. Han had slumped against the window frame, his throat tight, breath refusing to come. The floor dropped beneath his feet and, for one sickening second, a familiar metal burn filled his mouth and nose - carbonite had a stench that wasn’t easily forgotten. He pressed his hand against the glass, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in an attempt to suck in air…

And then it was gone, and the Falcon was in the air, the glow of its sublight drive leaving a blue imprint across his vision.

He’d go see Ben soon. He’d say he was sorry. To Ben and to Leia.

If Han Solo had learned anything in his long and tattered life it was that nothing was ever final.


	5. Chapter 5

“Focus your mind, young Padawan. Let go your conscious self…”

“Ow!” Ben yelled in pain as the remote droid’s energy stream blasted his knuckles once more. He pulled off the flight helmet and threw it across the room, before tossing down the metal rod that was serving as a training saber. “This is stupid,” he cried, hating the crack in his voice that betrayed his frustration. 

“You must learn to see without use of your eyes, Ben. Use the Force to –”

“I know! I know what I’m supposed to see!” Ben knew that his tone was insolent and unwarranted – in truth, the sting from the remote was no worse than an insect bite, there and then gone – but there was something… degrading about this exercise. About all the exercises Uncle Luke was asking him to complete. About the Jedi Academy as a whole. From the cold dormitory he and the other initiates slept in, to the bland food they were served every day. He wasn’t even allowed to train with a real lightsaber.

To guess where a remote’s energy stream came from? Of course he knew. There was no skill required, no intuition needed. Luke may as well have blown in his ear and then ask where the breeze had come from. Ben did not lack focus; it was simply that his mind was focused on other, more important things. 

Like the voice.

He’d first noticed it a year ago, on Lef, that dry old planet that Mother had thought so important and fought so hard to keep, but that had ended up leaving her Republic altogether. Seceding, they called it. But Ben had known better. Lef had gone from the Republic because the voice had made it so.

At first, it had not been a voice at all, but a feeling. One that had left him with a sickness in the pit of his stomach and a pressure at the back of his head, like the sensation he got when they emerged from hyperspeed in the Falcon. It was a rotten feeling, that sickness, but it was one that drew him in, like prodding at a loose tooth with his tongue, relishing the pain it caused. 

On Lef, he’d watched it take hold of those farmers and their kin, though they didn’t know what it was. Indeed, Ben was only starting to figure it out when Uncle Luke had told him they’d be taking a trip, and that he’d be training Ben in the ways of the Jedi.

And here they were, a year later. Only the voice still remained, and now Ben found that, if he listened, he could actually hear what it was trying to tell him.

_She is coming. She will be the balance._

Most of the time that’s what it said, though it made no sense to Ben. Other times it just repeated one word. A word that Ben had heard before.

_Vader. Vader. Vader. Vader._

It was terrifying and confusing and made Ben recoil in fear. But it was apparent that he was the only one who could hear it. The other apprentices, even Uncle Luke, seemed oblivious, and Ben couldn’t help but wonder if those words held a meaning for him alone, one that was more important than being stung on the knuckles by remotes for no good reason. 

_She will be the balance._

The balance to what? Who was _she_? And who was Vader?

“Ben!”

“I’m listening!”

Uncle Luke lifted his chin and regarded Ben in silence for a long enough time that he started to fidget; it was impossible to lie to Uncle Luke. After a moment under that stare, he walked to the wall and picked up his helmet - yet another thing he didn’t understand. Why a flight helmet? He wasn’t a pilot. He wasn’t learning how to fly. Why use an old helmet? Why not just blindfold him?

But his uncle was guarded and there was a lot about him he didn’t understand. 

Before they could resume the training, however, the door opened and, with a hidden smile, Ben remembered how there were occasions where Luke was not so skil ful at hiding his emotions.

His mother’s counsel, Emi Shendo, stood on the threshold, her eyes locked with Luke’s. Ben hadn’t known she was coming to Yavin 4 and, judging by his expression, neither had Uncle Luke. Even with the Force, Ben found it hard to decipher the exchange that was taking place between the two adults.

Then another thought occurred to him. If Counselor Shendo was here…

“Mother!”

Emi Shendo started, as if only just realizing Ben was in the room, and then smiled in acknowledgement. “Her Highness sent me to fetch you, Master Solo. She’s waiting for you in the Stateroom.”

_She’s_ waiting. Not they. His father, once again, hadn’t come.

Refusing to give ground to that now familiar pain, Ben threw down the helmet once more and sprinted for the door, leaving Counselor Shendo and Uncle Luke to whatever was going on between them.

But as the door swung shut behind him, the voice surfaced as a scream in his ear.

_SheiscomingSheiscomingSheiscoming_

***

It had taken Luke a year on Yavin 4 to convince himself that whatever might exist between him and Emi was futile, a distraction from his true purpose. It had taken ten seconds of seeing her standing in the doorway to the training room to conclude that he was wrong.

But he’d been all too aware of Ben and his training, and the environment in which they stood. Ben’s resentment at his training, and the temper that manifested as a result, was a worrying thing. Though he wanted to go to her, he knew that he couldn’t. The task that lay ahead of him in controlling his nephew’s anger was not to be taken lightly and, despite what Obi-wan said, a Jedi’s burden was his alone to bear. 

_If you find someone that you can connect to in a selfless way…_

Luke wasn’t sure if he was capable of that. To love another was to risk loss, and his father had shown where the pain that came from loss could so easily lead. Luke had faced enough temptation from the Dark Side in the past; the charred helmet locked away in his library was a daily reminder of that.

He bowed to Emi with a muttered greeting and an excuse about how he should go welcome Leia, knowing that this was a coward’s retreat, but she was standing between him and the door, and he had to push past her to leave. He was stopped by her hand on his forearm, and then on his cheek and then in his hair, and then by her lips on his.

“You don’t need to run from me, Luke,” she whispered when they parted.

Luke pressed his forehead to hers. “Em, there’s so much about me you don’t know. You’d be the one to run if you did. If you could see inside my mind…”

“And see what? The darkness there? We all have darkness, Luke.”

He pressed his eyes closed and shook his head. “No,” he said, pulling away from her. “No, not like this. It’s not as simple as that. If you knew –”

“What? Who your father was?”

His head shot up, finally meeting her eyes. There were very few who knew the truth of his and Leia’s heritage. He was sure that his sister would not have spoken of it to Emi without telling him.

“I may not have the Force, but I’m not a fool,” said Emi. “I can put pieces together and see the whole. And I can ask questions. Anakin Skywalker was your father. The same Skywalker who was a student of Obi-wan Kenobi. And who became Darth Vader.”

Luke could hardly bring himself to ask the question. “How long…?”

“Since before I first met you.”

“Which did you think you would meet then? The evil monster or the great Jedi. People tend to expect either one. Many of them are disappointed with the truth.”

“I base my judgments on what I know, Luke. And I didn’t know you. Not then. I saw only Leia’s brother.” 

He swallowed. “And now?”

She smiled and pulled him towards her once more. “Now I see the man I’ve been in love with for a very long time.” She kissed him again and, in that moment, Luke knew that Emi Shendo could lead him only to the path of the Light.

***


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s mind came at him, a blade slashing out, aiming to wound anything within reach. Luke clutched his hand to the side of his head, forcing himself to remain upright. “He’s up there,” he choked out.
> 
> They ran. With no time to speak, Luke tried to prepare his sister for what he suspected they would find.
> 
> _He knows, Leia. He knows._

The vision came to Luke that night in a deluge of fire and ash. Blood spattered across snow and rock, and voices screamed their agony. Chaos reigned and he spun, searching for his foe, not knowing where the danger came from, not knowing even what it looked like. 

Then… that recognizable hum of energy, a light in the darkness; a slash of red illuminating a face of black metal. _This_ was the enemy that history sent him, so familiar, and yet… different. The red light from the saber was perverse, fragmented somehow…

_Ben._

He woke on a gulp of air, struggling for breath. “Ben.” The boy was in danger. Not in the future, not from some nebulous threat, but _now, right now._

Luke slipped from the bed, even in his haste taking care not to wake Emi who slept on by his side. He searched quickly for his clothes in the darkness, but his tunic proved elusive and he had no time to hunt for it. As he tied the belt of his pants, he heard a murmured, “Luke?”

“Ben is in danger. I have to find him.” He knelt by the chest next to his bed and hefted open the lid, retrieving the metal cylinder that lay inside. His lightsaber had not been used in combat since that last battle with Vader on the bridge of the Death Star. He hoped fervently that it would not need to serve a similar purpose now.

Emi sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. He had taken great pleasure in releasing that hair from its pins earlier. “How do you know?” she asked, still groggy with sleep.

“I felt it. I saw…” He shook his head, unsure of how to explain what he saw. Pressing a kiss to her mouth, he said, “I’m sorry. I’ll come back to you as soon as I know he’s safe.”

“No you won’t,” she said, leaping from the bed and grabbing her gown from the floor. “I’m coming with you.”

He was about to argue, but knew there was really no time. And he couldn’t help but admit that whatever he was about to face, he would rather have her by his side. Together they ran from his chambers into the main courtyard. The night air on Yavin’s moon was cold against his torso, but Luke focused his mind elsewhere, reaching out to look for Ben. There was no point checking the Initiate dormitory; he knew his nephew wouldn’t be there.

_There._ The boy’s mind surfaced like a spark on dry kindling. Luke balked at the fear and confusion which rose up at him. Ben was close by, still within the safety of the Academy’s walls, which made no sense. Where could this danger come from?

Running footsteps approached from behind and Luke spun, the energy stream from his saber springing to life and bathing them in green light.

Leia stood there, breathless and frantic. “It’s Ben. Something’s wrong. We have to –”

“I know. I feel it too,” Luke replied, trying to reassure his sister but knowing she likely sensed the panic. “We’ll find him Leia.”

Leia nodded, her eyes flicking from Luke to Emi, both barely dressed in the courtyard, though she made no comment.

“Why are the lights on in your library?” asked Emi.

Luke glanced up at the building opposite. It should be empty at this time of night, but in the corner of the top floor, light glowed from four windows which should be in darkness.

_Oh no. No._

Ben’s mind came at him, a blade slashing out, aiming to wound anything within reach. Luke clutched his hand to the side of his head, forcing himself to remain upright. “He’s up there,” he choked out.

They ran. With no time to speak, Luke tried to prepare his sister for what he suspected they would find.

_He knows, Leia. He knows._

But if she heard him, she gave no sign. And right up until the moment they opened the heavy wooden doors, Luke hoped with all his heart he’d been wrong. He knew such a hope was in vain.

The library was wrecked. Books lay strewn on the floor, their pages torn, even the ones from the uppermost shelves, while furniture was tossed around in a way that could not have been done by hand. The entire scene was the product of some awful rage. Luke, Emi and Leia stepped through the debris towards the smaller chamber at the back; the one that Luke always kept locked. The one where the worst secret he’d ever been told was hidden away.

A small figure huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around some object half-hidden by his body. Leia ventured forward, and Luke felt both her relief and her trepidation. “What do you have there, Ben?” she asked, though she knew. Of course she knew.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The boy’s voice was small and when he finally looked at them over his shoulder, Luke saw how his eyes and cheeks were reddened with angry tears, his dark hair matted with sweat to his pale forehead.

“Oh Ben,” said Leia, her voice breaking, hands reaching out towards her son. Because she could see, as could they all, what Ben held in his hands.

“ _Why didn’t you tell me?_ ” screamed the boy, sending the twisted black mask flying across the room with a force beyond what a normal child was capable of. It glanced off Luke’s shoulder and he felt the trickle of blood down his arm, but gave it no thought. His nephew was coming to pieces in front of him and it was entirely his fault.

Leia crouched down, pulling her sobbing son into her arms, though he tried in vain to fight her off. Eventually, he collapsed against her, exhausted. “I’m sorry, Ben. I’m sorry,” she murmured into his hair as she cradled him. But when Luke caught her eyes over Ben’s head, he knew that the guilt of what they’d kept from him could not be erased by mere words.

***

Han arrived before the cycle was out, though Leia hadn’t sent for him. The communication hologram he’d received from her was merely a calm recounting of what had happened with Ben that night in the library. There were no expectations that he would fly to be with his wife and son, and in a way, that made it so much worse than all the times they had argued about his sparse contact with Ben.

He brought the Falcon to land on one of Yavin 4’s small docking platforms just to the south of the Great Temple, and killed the sub-lights. The pyramid loomed through the trees, reminding him of battles won and honors given long ago. How naïve that version of himself seemed now. He’d never understand why the New Republic had reclaimed this swamp, or why Luke had chosen to build his academy here. Some things were best left in the past. 

Chewie stood and ducked through the cockpit door, urging him to hurry with a low-pitched wail. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a second, big guy.” For the first time in his life, Han Solo found himself wishing that he had the powers of the Force, so that he could reach out from where he sat and ask Leia what was wrong with their son, or ask Luke what the hell he could do to help him. Or ask Ben whether he could ever forgive him for leaving him alone for so long to deal with all this.

But there were no voices on the breeze to help him, no ghostly old masters to guide him. The only sound was the slow spinning _whum_ of the Falcon’s sublights winding down. Han was on his own.

A transport was on the landing pad, ready to take them to the Academy, and when he got there, he found Leia waiting for him. All apprehension left him as soon as he saw her face and he reached for her, grateful that she didn’t stiffen in his embrace. She kissed him and he knew that as long as he had this, as long as they had each other, there was nothing they couldn’t face.

“How is he?” he asked

Leia heaved a sigh against his chest. “He’s… normal? I don’t know, Han. He’s so calm now. He acts like nothing’s wrong, but when I reach out to him… He’s put a wall up. I can’t touch his thoughts anymore.”

Han knew the pain that would cause Leia; the bond she’d shared with Ben had always run so deep. “How…?” He barely knew the question he was trying to ask. 

Leia, sensitive as always to what he was thinking, understood better than he. “How did he know where to look?” She shrugged, despondent. “We don’t know. He won’t even talk to us.”

“Can I see him? Where is he?” 

“He’s training with the other boys. I sent for him when I heard you’d arrived.”

Han, incredulous, pulled back to look at her, his hands on her shoulders. “You’re still letting him train.”

“He insisted, Han. He didn’t want to give up now. But even if he had, I don’t –” 

“This is Luke’s doing,” said Han, stomping past her into the Academy building. 

“No!” said Leia, following. “No, it’s not, no more than it is mine. Or yours.”

Han spun, unwilling to give ground to her accusation. “Oh you think this is _my_ fault?” he asked, pointing to himself, eyebrows raised in a challenge. “Last I checked, Leia, I wasn’t keeping the burned armor of my dead father locked in a closet. You remember him, don’t you? Tall? Liked black? Had an evil empire that was the scourge of the galaxy?”

“Stop it, Han.” He knew he’d gone too far, of course. It didn’t take the tears that glistened in her eyes to tell him that. 

Han had never expected much from life; just a decent cargo now and then, and payment more or less on time. When he’d been gifted this woman and her love and her strength, he’d felt that it was all some test, some grand joke that was only lacking a punchline. There were always moments when he’d felt the sand shift beneath his feet, when the jaws of the Sarlaac threatened to snatch away all he’d ever cherished. In those moments, he could only lash out blindly, hoping that he’d hit his mark. Sometimes he did.

_Words are hard for me_ , he wanted to say. _I can’t explain what I really mean. Please tell me what I’m supposed to say_. But, like always, the right words were outside of his grasp and, in that moment, _I’m sorry_ was just as elusive as _I love you too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this chapter on the other end of seeing The Last Jedi, which was an utterly glorious movie and one I can't stop thinking about. As suspected, it put paid to some of the theories of this fic, so I guess it's AU from here on in.
> 
> In other news, I am now officially Reylo Trash™


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The Sith._
> 
> What a sound that was. Ben wanted to say it aloud, to catch it between his teeth and feel the vibration of it on his tongue. But San Tekka was watching him now, and so he said, “Who are they?”

It wasn’t hard, Ben found in the weeks that followed, to pretend that all was as it had been. He trained, as he’d always done. He slept in his bunk, as he’d always done. He listened to the Voice, as he’d always done, but with one small difference. This time, he spoke back – and the Voice answered.

As terrifying as that night had been when the Voice had led him to the mask in Luke’s library – when it had told him who Darth Vader truly was – in the end, he decided that it had freed him. Both Luke and Mother had tried to talk to him about Vader. They told him of the evil he’d done and of how the galaxy had feared him. Luke told him about how it was only in death that his father, Ben’s grandfather, Anakin Skywalker had returned to the Light.

The Voice told him a different story. The Empire, it said, was a bringer of freedom and justice to the galaxy. Before, it was in turmoil, on the verge of war. Only under the governance of Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine was peace truly attained. It was the Rebel Alliance, the same Alliance his mother, father and uncle had fought for, that had destroyed such peace. Now the galaxy was nothing but chaos.

Ben listened carefully to both versions, though he knew which one to believe; of the two sides, only the Voice had never lied to him.

It wouldn’t do, however, to let his family see how he doubted them. They would stop his training and send him back to Coruscant, and the Voice had told him how important it was to learn the ways of the Force, as long as he knew that the way of Light was not the only path he could walk.

_She is coming_ , it said. _You must be prepared. And you must never let them know._

And so he’d said goodbye to Mother and Father, and told them not to worry, that of course he understood why they’d had to keep the truth from him for so long. But even his mother was distant from him now and he didn’t know how to bridge that gap.

Each day, he carried out his duties, and trained and ate and studied. And each night he stared at the sky and dreamed of stars exploding.

One morning, however, this routine changed. When he arrived at the training room, it was not Luke, or even one of the other Knights who sometimes trained the initiates, who waited, but the old man, Lor San Tekka.

“I’m sorry, Acolyte,” he said, retreating. “I didn’t know you were using the training room today.”

“No need to apologize,” said San Tekka. “I was waiting for you.”

“Me?”

“Your uncle was gracious enough to hand your training over to me for the day.”

“You?” Ben knew his tone verged on insolent, but the notion of being trained by this man… He wasn’t even Jedi.

“There is more to knowledge than that which the Jedi Academy can teach you, young Solo,” said the old Acolyte with a grin, as if guessing his misgivings. “What do you know of history?”

Ben’s lips twisted. The only history he knew, his family had tried to keep from him. The Voice had told him what he needed to know and everything else now seemed irrelevant. “I know enough.”

San Tekka scoffed. “You know fragments of living memory. This galaxy is far older than even your parents could imagine. There is history beyond their ken, boy. Come.”

“Where are we going?” asked Ben, curiosity overcoming his uncertainty.

“Outside,” said San Tekka.

_No,_ said the Voice. _No, do not follow._

But Ben was nine and the possibility of adventure beckoned. For once, he tamped down the Voice, ignoring how it snarled in the back of his mind.

Ben had only ever been outside of the Academy walls once before, on the day he’d arrived on Yavin 4. That time had also been with Lor San Tekka. Now, though, they headed deeper into the jungle, on a path that was barely more than sodden muck. He knew grumbling would be childish, but every time a branch slapped him in the face, he had to force himself not to turn back and leave the old man to whatever scheme he had planned. Just when he decided he’d had enough, they emerged into a clearing and what lay up ahead made his breath catch.

Ben had seen the Great Temple before of course, but it was always far off and even then, he realized, it was only the very pinnacle that was visible above the trees. Now it lay less than a quarter mile ahead of them, towering into the sky. He knew his mouth was open, but it truly was a thing to behold.

“How fast can you run, young Solo?” asked San Tekka, with a grin and a challenge in his eye. 

Ben laughed, feeling his first glimmer of delight since the night in the library. “Faster than you, old man!” And then he was off. His legs had stretched in the past month and he easily ate up the ground between the forest and the temple, but a glance over his shoulder told him that San Tekka was not so old as he had guessed; there wasn’t much distance between them. Ben reached the vine-covered wall of the temple and leaned against it, gulping in air and soon San Tekka caught up, seeming barely winded.

“Not bad, Ben, though it’s lucky the Temple was not further away.”

Ben shook his head, wanting to mock, but found he couldn’t summon the breath. Instead he followed San Tekka through an archway and into an enormous hall that stretched up into the pyramid. It was larger than anything he’d seen before, even on Coruscant. At the end, was a dais, behind which five pillars reached up to the ceiling. Sunlight flooded down through them, reflecting green off the ivy that hugged the cold stone; it was beautiful, almost otherworldly.

“I know this place,” he murmured. “My father told me about it.” It was a moment he’d forgotten until then, one that took place when he was barely four-years-old. But now Ben recalled how he’d been sitting between his mother and father on their bed. His father had spoken of how regal and beautiful his mother had been that day, and how it was only when she placed the medal around his neck that he truly realized he loved her. Ben had felt his mother’s happiness when Father had used that word, and she’d said how brave his father had been, even when he didn’t want to be brave, and his father had said how she’d been the brave one. 

Ben remembered tilting his head back and looking from one to the other and thinking how he didn’t really understand the look that passed between them, but that it made him feel happy anyway. How could he have forgotten that? Why wasn’t it like that anymore?

Alarmingly, he felt something catch in his throat and heat prick the corners of his eyes. He turned away, rubbing the ball of his palm across his cheeks, angry that San Tekka might see him like this. But the old man wasn’t even looking at him; instead he was facing the wall, pushing back the clinging ivy and brushing his fingers across the markings that were carved there.

Ben walked over to join him. “How old is this place?”

San Tekka shrugged. “Perhaps older than the Jedi? Who knows?”

“I thought the Jedi were older than anything.” 

“The Jedi didn’t create the galaxy, young Solo,” he said with a grin, “no matter what some of the old Order would have had you believe.”

“Luke told me of the Order. He says they were all killed.”

San Tekka didn’t take his eyes off of the carvings. “Most of them. Some remained. And even those who are gone can sometimes still speak to us.”

Ben tried not to react. Was that what the Voice was? Some phantom of the Old Order? “Speak to us? How?”

“The Force is a mysterious thing, Ben. I couldn’t even begin to understand it. But as I’ve been led to believe, sometimes those who have gone can still guide us. We should be careful, though. For the Sith too are capable of communicating by means of the Force.”

_The Sith._

What a sound that was. He wanted to say it aloud, to catch it between his teeth and feel the vibration of it on his tongue. But San Tekka was watching him now, and so he said, “Who are they?”

San Tekka regarded him for a long moment, before turning and heading for the back of the hall. With a flick of his hand, he gestured for Ben to follow, and when they reached the corner furthest away from the giant windows, he stopped and crouched down.

“There was a race called the Massassi, once enslaved by the Sith, and now long gone from the galaxy. They built this temple as a monument to light, a beacon against all that would threaten them. But the Massassi were not a foolish people. They knew that where great good existed, so must there be great evil, and for all light, there must be equal darkness. But more than that, they believed that for every thought, idea, every feeling, there must be an opposite. Here, look. This was their symbol for it.” With his index finger, he followed an indentation in the stone, almost worn smooth. “They called this opposite the _ky._ It doesn’t mean balance, not like the teachings of the Jedi, for the _ky_ of something cannot exist in parallel with its opposite. Instead the _ky_ demands the destruction of that which it mirrors. The _ky_ , young Solo, is a force for annihilation, just as the darkness extinguishes the light. This is what the Sith are. You must hope that you will never see its like in your lifetime.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The Force was something brilliant inside of her, despite how raw and unfocused it was. It flowed through her like sun-dappled water, so intense that Ben often thought it might blind him. The Force inside him was like fire reflecting off shattered glass, but sometimes he let himself believe that in his cousin's presence, this power he had within him might hurt a little less."

It had been many years since Luke Skywalker had thought he would ever see a child of his grow in the belly of the woman he loved. Not since Tattooine had he considered the possibility of a family of his own, and even then it had only been through some notion of how the life of a moisture farmer was supposed to be.

Now, he found himself longing for those moments when he and Emi could lie on their bed and he could rest his hand on her stomach and feel the power of the little girl within. That it was a girl, he had no doubt, and though Emi had said she didn't want to know until the day of the birth, she’d soon given in and asked him if he knew. In a way, he was cheating, but he couldn’t help himself from reaching out to touch the tiny mind that was a part of him and a part of Emi.

More than that, this daughter of his reached back.

The first time it happened, he’d laughed in surprise, just as he’d done the first time he’d felt her kick beneath his hand.

“What?” said Emi.

“I can feel her,” said Luke, amazed.

Emi cocked her head. “She’s not moving right now.”

“No, not here. Up here.” He gestured to his head.

Emi sat up, her face tightening. “She… she has the Force.” Her hand slid across her belly.

Luke understood then what he’d said, the fear he’d triggered; the memory of Ben in the library, though it happened cycles ago, was still fresh. “No, Em. It’s not like that. Not like I felt from Leia before Ben was born. I mean, yes, she has the Force, but…” He shook his head, unsure how to explain it. “I feel nothing but goodness from her. She… Oh, Em, I wish you could feel this. Our daughter is going to be so beautiful.”

From Emi’s smile, he knew she understood exactly what he meant. This child of theirs would be a thing of the Light.

***

The day his cousin was born, Ben fled to the training room, pounding the manikins with his training saber. The Voice had been speaking to him since the night before, when Emi Shendo had felt her first pains. He hadn’t slept and his mind was a storm, of his own thoughts, of Luke’s, of all those around them who were so eager for this child to be born. All of them scared and excited and panicked. But the loudest of all was the Voice.

_Sheiscomingsheiscomingsheiscomingsheiscoming sheiscoming_

And then, when Ben finally collapsed on the training mat, his palms bleeding and raw, it said something else, before disappearing entirely.

_She is here._

From the chambers above, came a baby’s cries.

***

They called her Beru, a name that Leia thought too old for the tiny thing in Emi’s arms, though she understood Luke’s wish to honor his aunt – their aunt. Within days, though, this had become just Ru. And little Ru was curious about everything and everyone around her. Even before her eyes could possibly see, she was twisting her head towards the people who came to visit her. The least sound stilled her, as if she was listening for its source. Even Han said he thought that little Ru knew what they were all thinking. Leia couldn’t remember Ben ever having been so still and so calm. Her baby had been all squalls and tempests.

Ben.

It was a strange reaction her son had to his cousin. When Leia and Han arrived just a few days after the birth, Ben was already in Emi’s chambers, sitting attentively by her bedside. Leia had tried to shoo him out to give Emi some peace, but Ben had protested and Emi had said he was no trouble. And truly, he seemed to be no trouble. If the baby cried, he jumped up, asking if he could fetch anything, and on the one occasion he’d held Ru, the girl had stilled in his arms, both children watching each other as if oblivious of the others in the room. She’d watched her son in those moments, tall and lean for his ten years, his face all angles, hinting at the man he would become all too soon.

So much had distracted her in the past months. There was conflict in the galaxy, and more planets had seceded, but rather than be random and chaotic, this discord seemed focused somehow, as if stemming from a single source. But no person or faction came forward to state their opposition to the New Republic, and so the enemy remained invisible. Too often, Leia felt the hand of the Dark Side.

She’d been so focused on her work, it was only now that she saw how her little boy had grown up while she’d been looking elsewhere. Watching him with Ru, the tantrums and dark moods that had become such a facet of his character seemed far away, and she wished that this, too, could be a sign of the man he would become. But sometimes, in unguarded moments, a crack would appear in the wall he’d built around himself, and Leia thought she could glimpse only darkness beyond. 

When she eventually managed to persuade Ben to leave Emi and Luke’s chambers, so that he could bathe and sleep, he’d said through a yawn, “We’re the same, Mother. We’re the same, Ru and I.”

And, in her treacherous heart, Leia hoped it wasn’t so.

***

Though Ru was only three years old, she was the person that Ben preferred to spend most of his time with. She was a clever little thing, fearless and curious, and she made him laugh. She would hide behind his door and he would have to pretend to be scared when she jumped out, or she would bring him training sabers and demand to play-fight with him, though the saber was almost the same size as her. “Ru is Yoda,” she would say, referring to herself in the third person, with that funny way she had of pronouncing her name.

Mother said that Ru reminded her of Ben when he was that that age, but there was something sad in her eyes when she said it. Ben couldn’t ever remember his life being as simple as it appeared to be for Ru; when he touched her thoughts, childlike and nebulous though they often were, they were also pure and untroubled. His own thoughts were rarely anything other than jagged and broken. He took pains to make sure Ru could never see the fractured mess that was his mind. 

More than all of that, Ru was strong. The Force was something brilliant inside of her, despite how raw and unfocused it was. It flowed through her like sun-dappled water, so intense that Ben often thought it might blind him. The Force inside him was like fire reflecting off shattered glass, but sometimes he let himself believe that in Ru’s presence, this power he had within him might hurt a little less.

_She will be the balance._

Was this what the Voice had meant? That he and Ru were part of something larger than the both of them combined? Too often he struggled with what it could all mean, but unlike before, when he would have asked the Voice for guidance, now he had nowhere to turn. For the Voice had gone.

It hadn’t spoken to him since the night Ru was born, leaving him with a maelstrom of words in his mind. He’d sought it out constantly in the weeks after, to no avail. As the months passed, his pursuit of the Voice had become less determined, until he no longer sought it at all. He did not, however, believe it had gone forever.

For now, it was just him and Ru, and he would have to find his own answers.


End file.
